Wildcard
by KassyMalone
Summary: 'Canada Day', 'Oedipus Complex', 'Uncle Russia'... 'Wildcard' is a series of drabbles and short stories that I don't have the time or inspiration to stretch into full stories. Multiple characters, multiple genres. Also open for submissions! Rating may change.
1. Intro and Canada Day

**Intro.**

As the summary suggests, 'Wildcard' is a bunch of short stories and drabbles that come to mind which I don't have time to expand into full stories. No individual story will be over a chapter long, and some may be very short indeed. Regardless, I hope you find something to enjoy about them.

But wait! This particular fic features audience participation! Got an idea for a short story, but not that hot at writing? Have a random phrase and want to see where I can take it? Drop me a line! Write me a review or drop me a pm, and I'll do my best! Furthermore, if you have more time in life than I do and want to expand what you read into a full story, let me know so I can read it!

Anyway, enough of that. Please enjoy the first short story, 'Canada Day'.

* * *

**Canada Day.**

Canada was upset – another world meeting gone by, and once again no-one had noticed him. He had had some pretty good things to say as well, but the louder countries had just talked over him, as always. It was pretty disheartening, meeting after meeting, but he tried to stay upbeat. It could be worse, afterall – his head could be made of cheese.

"Eh? Why cheese?" Cuba asked, bottle of beer half way to his lips.

"Oh, no real reason." Canada answered, fluffy blonde head on the bar "Just the first word that came to mind."

"Huh."

Cuba took a swig of his beer. It had been a long and trying day, and the nations were gathered down the pub for a drink and some dinner before retiring and starting the circus all over again tomorrow. Canada sighed – he wasn't really up for drinking, but hotel rooms were kind of lonely and depressing. Not quiet, though. Not with his rowdy brother right next door. He even spoke in his sleep, the bastard.

"You know," Cuba went on "I think you're thinking about this all wrong."

"How's that?"

"It's like having a super power." Cuba figured "I'd love to be invisible. I could spy on anyone I wanted. I could go in womens changing rooms and kill all my enemies, and no-one would ever know it was me."

"You scare me sometimes."

"Think about it, man!" he started to enthuse "You could do anything! You could walk into a bank and just take shit! Steal government secrets and cross any border you wanted."

Seeing that his conspiratorial fun wasn't cheering up his friend, Cuba laughed and slapped him roughly on the back, changing his tact.

"Think about it!" he repeated jovially "There's gotta be something you've always wanted to do! Me, I've always wished I could go to one of these boring ass meetings in my shorts and sandals, but everyone would notice."

"You do hate dress shoes." Canada knew.

"I could just sit there eating ice cream and reading porn. And if I got bored, I could just take a nap." he sighed "Man, I wish I was invisible."

Canada laughed, cheering them both up. He yelped in a most unmanly manner as he was grabbed roughly from behind.

"Canada, bro!" the familiar voice of his brother yelled right in his ear "It's bed time, man!"

"What the hell, America?!" Cuba roared, jumping up from his stool as his friend was accosted "We're talking here!"

"Dude, it's okay!" America grinned at him, happy and oblivious as always "This guy's my brother!"

"I know who he is!"

"America..." Canada whimpered "That hurts. Please let go."

"It doesn't hurt." he disagreed "And like I said, it's bedtime!"

"Why does an independent nation have a bedtime?!" Cuba scorned.

"Because we've got a busy day tomorrow, duh." was his answer "I don't know about you, Mr Communist, but I'm exhausted! Bringing democracy to the world is tiring, you know!"

Back on the pub floor, the old world nations continued to laugh and piss around, noticeably mocking 'little baby America' for sticking to his 10pm bedtime. Cuba grimaced and went to argue with America some more, but Canada stopped him with a shake of the head.

"It's okay." he assured "I am kinda tired. I'll see you bright and early for breakfast, though."

Cuba was dissatisfied, but let it go. America pulled Canada right off his bar stool, releasing him only to take his hand and drag from from the building and back to the hotel.

"Hey bro, I was thinking, we should totally go see a movie when the meeting is over." he yakked "How about that new one from my place?"

"Which one?"

"It's doesn't matter, bro, they all rule!"

Canada sighed again, humouring his brother until they said goodbye at the doors of their hotel rooms.

"Oh!" America remembered, half in the door before turning back coyly "You know... these hotels can be pretty lonely places... all alone... in a bed that's not yours... It can be pretty scary, if you wake up in the night and don't know where you are..."

Of course. Typical America... It was one of the parts of his brother that Canada found touching, and he couldn't help but smile.

"If I get scared, may I come to your room?" he asked, although he knew that wouldn't happen.

"Of course!" America almost yelled "Because, as I'm sure you know, I _am_ the hero! And I might... you know, come check on you in the night... if I remember..."

"I feel safer already."

America smiled, cheeks going a little rosy.

"Well then... night, bro!"

America immediately slammed the door. Canada just laughed to himself and went into his room.

* * *

Canada sighed. He wasn't looking forward to another day of being ignored. It was especially bitter today, since it was the Canadian national holiday – also known as his birthday. He didn't want to go to the meeting. He didn't want to put on his dress shirt and tie and the itchy suit and sweaty shoes. Uuugh. He supposed he had no choice. He was perfectly comfortable in his hockey jersey. Out of no-where, Cubas words from the previous night sprung to his mind.

* * *

"What's going on?"

"Ah, Britain!"

France ran up to the confused Brit, grabbing his hand and pulling him through the gawping crowd.

"You won't believe this! Something truly absurd has happened!"

They stopped at the door where everyone was waiting, and immediately the Brit was taken aback – Canada sat in his seat, feet up on the table, dressed not in his suit and tie, but pyjama bottoms, slippers and a hockey shirt, plate of pancakes in one hand and a fork in the other, curly hair not even close to being brushed. America sat next to him, more suitably attired, but clearly flabbergasted. Looking up from his pancakes, Canada cocked an eyebrow as he saw every other nation in the world staring at him. He slowly finished chewing and swallowed before addressing them.

"Fuck you, it's Canada day."

Cuba burst out laughing. A ripple of giggles spread through the crowd. America looked even more confused. Canada, completely unrepentant, belched loudly before shoving more pancake into his mouth. France seemed horrified, but Britain couldn't help but laugh, going into the room and taking his usual seat.

"Happy Birthday, you weirdo."

"Who is that?" a voice in the crowd dared ask.

"I'm Canada."

"Hell yeah, you are!" Cuba agreed as he slammed his briefcase on the table by his friends feet "Let's get this meeting started!"

* * *

Canada did exactly what he wanted during the meeting. After a little while, having his feet up on the table started to hurt his back, so he sat normally on the chair. He ran out of pancakes, so poured his left over maple syrup into his coffee cup and sipped at it. He flipped through his camping and leisure magazine and did the crossword in the morning paper. Damn, he couldn't remember the last time he had felt so comfortable at a meeting – he should wear his pyjama bottoms out more often. For about an hour, life was pretty sweet.

However, something started to bother him. He couldn't put his finger on it, and it started to bug him more and more. He looked around, but no-one was missing, nothing was out of the ordinary – in fact, everything was running pretty smoothly. Very smoothly. Too smoothly...

Canada looked at his brother – he was sat in silence beside him, staring at his almost blank notebook. Had he said a single thing all morning? Come to think of it, Canada couldn't recall anything he had said today, other than his usual jovial 'good morning' and strangled protests when he realised his brother wasn't going to get dressed today. That was... disconcerting...

"Hey, America." he called softly "Are you feeling okay?"

America startled a little, looking at his brother. He was noticeably upset, but forced on a smile.

"Of course." he lied "I'm cool. I'm a hero!"

He flashed him a thumbs up. Canada smiled back, although he didn't believe him for a second.

* * *

"So, how was it?" Cuba asked as he shoved the chicken skewer in his mouth "Was it fun?"

"It was okay." Canada admitted as Mr Kumajiro tried to swipe his chicken "But truth be told, I didn't really do anything different to normal. Germany told me off something fierce, though. He let it go because it was my birthday, but I don't wanna go through that again."

"Dude's scary." Cuba agreed "It's a shame it was a meeting day – imagine what you could have done if you had the day off!"

"I probably would have gone camping." Canada knew "Or hiking. Or maybe read a good book. That sounds like a pretty good birthday to me."

Cuba chuckled, nodding knowingly.

"Canada!"

They looked around – France bundled over, all enthusiastic, with a whole menagerie of old world countries behind him, Britain holding a very fancy looking cake.

"Unless my memory deceives me, it is a certain young nations birthday today!" France sung "It's time to celebrate, _non_?" he leaned in conspiratorially "And don't worry, Britain did not make the cake."

"Oi! I heard that, you wanker!"

* * *

It was nice being the centre of attention, but truth be told, Canada wouldn't want to do it every day. He was absolutely exhausted, physically and mentally, and his throat hurt from talking too much. How ironic that on the day he tried to actually take advantage of his invisibility, he was the most noticed. He was actually looking forward to the quiet of his hotel room, retiring earlier than the old world nations despite their protests and begs for him to stay and keep drinking. France begged him to dress normally tomorrow, or at least brush his hair, and was none too pleased when Britain jokingly disagreed with him.

As the door of the lift opened, he limped out and down the hall to his room – slippers were comfy, but they weren't made to be walked around in all day. He also smelled kinda funky after hanging around in his pyjamas. He should take a shower and change before bed. He jumped a little as the door to Americas room opened, realising with a sickening suddenness that he hadn't seen him since the end of the meeting. America seemed startled a moment before being overcome with relief, but reigned it back in before speaking.

"Hey, Canada." he greeted nonchalantly "How was the party?"

"Oh, it was okay." he answered "It was pretty quiet without you, though."

"Yeah, sorry about that." America mumbled as he scratched the back of his head "I wasn't really feeling up to it. I'll make it up to you, bro."

Was he feeling sick? He certainly wasn't himself today. Did he need a doctor?

"You can pay for the movie." Canada reminded him "And the snacks."

This seemed to cheer him up, and he smiled genuinely for the first time today.

"Well..." he mumbled "Good night, bro. Happy birthday."

"America." Canada called as he turned away "If I get scared, can I sleep in your room?"

His older brother seemed surprised a moment, but smiled again.

"Of course." he said "I am a hero."

With that, he went into his room, closing the door without slamming it for once. With a yawn, Canada went into his room.

* * *

America stared openly at his brother the next morning as they met for breakfast. Hair brushed, suit adorned, there was nothing at all out of the ordinary about him today.

"You're not wearing your pyjamas today?" he asked awkwardly.

"They're kinda funny smelling after yesterday." Canada admitted.

"Oh, I see." America answered, sounding a little happy "But I guess no-one's going to pay attention to you today."

"That's okay." Canada told him as they moved along the buffet and piled their plates "It was fun for a day, but I don't really need it."

Food acquired, they looked around the room briefly, spotting France as he waved his hand in the air to get their attention. They crossed the restaurant floor, ducking around their fellow nations with not a single one of them paying attention.

"Oh yeah?" America went on "Why's that?"

"Because," he answered as he took his seat "I'm Canada."

* * *

It's hard for short stories to make sense. At least, when I write them... haha... I hope you enjoyed that on some level anyway. Despite sometimes being upset about not being noticed, Canada always struck me as the type of character who was pretty happy in his own skin.

Next short story will be 'Oedipus Complex'... I'll leave you to ponder what it's about!

All reviews and submissions welcome!


	2. Oedipus Complex

A nice short one for you.

* * *

**Oedipus Complex.**

America was very much enjoying his holiday – his buddy Italy had invited him to his place for a couple of weeks, and _man_, was it nice! It was, like, the BEST pizza he had ever eaten, and he'd eaten some gooood pizza. And the ice cream, good god the ice cream! Although he didn't really get the fuss about all old buildings and all the farms everywhere. They didn't even grow corn, just a whole bunch of fruit. It was weird. Japan seemed pretty interested in all the old stuff, though... or was he? It was kinda hard to tell...

On this particular night, Italy had a rendezvous with Germany (if you know what I mean, wink wink, nudge nudge), leaving America and Japan to fend for themselves for the evening. Both a little overwhelmed by the open air market (and who wants to go to the supermarket when you're on holiday, really?), they decided to go to a restaurant near Italys house, one that he personally recommended, so it had to be good.

The patrons were incredibly friendly, ushering them in with smiles and delicious smells. They immediately offered them a free glass of house wine, which Japan didn't hesitate to take away from the underage America (230 years is infantile to a country, after all). As the host showed them to a free table at the back, they noticed a familiar grating whine coming from the bar.

"Hey, Romano!" America called "How you doing, buddy?"

Japan grimaced – how... how was he that blind? Romano was bent over the bar, half empty bottle of tequila in one hand and shot glass in the other, complaining loudly to the poor bar man.

"Hey, are you even listening to me?" Romano demanded "I want more tequila! Oi!"

Realising he hadn't been heard, America bundled over to him and slapped him playfully on the back.

"Dude!" he called louder "You going deaf or what man?"

Romano yelped, half in shock and half in pain, before spinning around furiously.

"What the hell, you bastard?!" he shrieked "Who the hell runs up to people in restaurants and smacks them?! Are you out of your mind?!"

America just laughed as Romano continued to berate him. Mortification growing, Japan followed the waitress to their table.

* * *

"And so that bastard Spain blew me off to hang out with his idiot friends!" Romano finished as he shovelled spaghetti into his mouth "I had a whole evening planned and that bastard didn't even care!"

"Dude, that's totally harsh." America agreed, also having a face full of ricotta "I know just how you feel – last time I took Britain out for dinner, he totally yelled at me! He was so unappreciative!"

"Exactly!" Romano concurred.

"Please... swallow your food first." Japan begged "And Britain was mad because you offered to take him out to dinner and then bought him McDonalds."

"McDonalds is perfectly good dinner!" America argued.

"Exactly, you dress wearing gold-fish tender!" Romano agreed "It's not the food that counts, it's the thought! Don't you know anything?! America!" he turned back to the blonde "Let me tell you about this one thing that happened!"

Japan decided not to drink. With Romano drunk off his ass and America... well, America, he thought it was best he was in full control of his faculties. He ate his bolognese and sipped at his water as the two of them rambled on.

"And so I tried to kiss him, but the idiot thought I wanted to play, like I was still a kid, and lifted me up and spun me around like I was a plane or something!" Romano declared "Can you imagine that?!"

"I can!" America swore "When I tried to kiss England, he thought I was just hungry and made me dinner! When I tried again later during the movie, he thought I was just scared and pat me on the head. Man, it was really embarrassing, you know?"

"I know!" Romano yelled "You understand me!"

"I completely do!" America swore "We have the same problem!"

Japan sighed. Romano, at least, had the excuse of being drunk. America was... he was such an innocent young nation...

"America, you gotta help me!" Romano begged "You and Spain get on great! Tell me your angle!"

"Man, I don't have an angle!" America swore "I'd totally tell you, I swear! I'm too busy trying to get Britain to take me seriously." he sighed "Why won't he see me as an adult?"

"America!" Romano cried as he grabbed his hand "You're my true brother!"

Japan sighed again, finished his pasta and flagged down the waitress to order his dessert

* * *

"Hey, Japan!" China called "I heard you took a holiday in Italy! Was it fun?"

Japan thought carefully about his answer. He looked at China as he patiently waited.

"I have a better appreciation for our relationship." was his answer.

"Eh?"

China just looked confused. Behind him, Romano yelled at Spain, who simply laughed like always, while Americas own pleas for attention were met with England suggesting he should take a nap. Oh yes, Japan appreciated his brother quite a lot.

* * *

To those who don't know what an 'Oedipus complex' is... it's a term in Freudian Psychology. Long story short, the name 'Oedipus' stems from the Greek tragic hero who (accidentally) murdered his father (but he tried to kill him as a baby, so it was cool) and (accidentally) married his mother. Freud used it to refer to little boys who liked their mothers more than their fathers (oversimplification, but this if fanfiction, not a psychology text book). That's what I see when I read USUK fanfics... America with a serious Oedipus complex.

If you're ever curious about Freud or Freudian psychology, you should totally look him up. He may be one of the fathers of modern psychology, but I think they bloke was nuts.


	3. Fleas

Another short one, and my first from submission!

Prompt: Okay, miss amazing writer... I want a neko fic :P I think you'd write one well... you write everything else well, so I think that's sound reasoning.

Well, how charming! And vague... well, here's what you wanted!... I think. Kind of... enjoy!

* * *

**Fleas.**

The G8 cats sat in a circle, glaring daggers at each other. Each was trying furiously not to itch like crazy, twitching and shaking while trying to keep their dignity. It was the youngest among them that broke first.

"IT'S TOO ITCHY!" Americat screeched, rolling desperately on the floor "Make it stop!"

"Don't come near me!" Britaincat yelled, jumping back as he rolled close "I don't want your giant fleas!"

"Like your scruffy fleas are any better!" Francecat countered "Yours have evolved to withstand nuclear explosions!"

"Say that again, you over-groomed Persian!"

"Persian?!"

"ENOUGH!" Germanycat yelled, silencing them all "We need to figure out where these fleas came from and get rid of them before the matter is taken out of our paws!"

They all shuddered. If they couldn't get rid of the fleas themselves, there was only one other option...

"I don't know what you're all complaining about." Francecat admitted "My human bathes me regularly – it's not a big deal."

"You're officially disqualified as a cat." Britaincat quipped.

"We aren't just talking about baths here." Germanycat pointed out sombrely "We're talking about... medicine baths!"

Italycat screeched, immediately covering his nose with his paws.

"I can't take it, Captain!" he screamed "The smell! The awful smell!"

"It took four months to wash all the medicine out of my fur that last outbreak." Russiacat admitted "It was all I could taste for a year!"

"All I know is that they didn't come from my place." Chinacat insisted "At my place, medicine baths are compulsory once a month!"

"That sounds stinky!" Italycat noted.

"I bet it was Britaincat." Francecat insinuated "He's always crawling through bushes and getting dirty and I almost never see him bathe!"

"I'm a shorthair!" Britaincat countered "My human would have seen fleas on me long before I could spread them! You've got so much fur, I bet you could hide a whole flea circus in there and feed it for years before they would overpopulate and need to move on!"

"Ugh!" Francecat exasperated "If you want to talk about not running out of food, look no further than Americat!"

Said Americat continued to roll uncontrollably on the ground while trying desperately to scratch himself with his hands legs.

"Da, I agree." Russiacat conferred "I also think it's Americats fault."

"Wait, what?!" Americat screeched as he started to pay attention "Dude, that's not cool! This is the first time I've even had fleas! No way I spread them around!"

"You're spreading them now with all your rolling!" Chinacat pointed out, hiding behind Russiacat "Stop that!"

"I don't want a stinky bath!" Italycat declared "I'm a shorthair too, threre's no way it was my fault, I shouldn't have to take a bbbaaaaaaattthhhhh!"

"Ja, as am I." Germanycat admitted "I would definitely have noticed if I had fleas first, and secluded myself for the good of the community."

"Germanycat, you're so cool!" Italycat enthused.

"So we're agreed." Britaincat concluded "This is Americats fault."

"What?!"

"Da."

"Oui."

"Ja."

"Si!"

"Shi."

"Japancat?" Britaincat asked when he didn't answer.

The other cats looked at him. Americats eyes pleaded with him, but the numbers were against him.

"Hai." Japancat agreed "But Americat is young, and the young make mistakes, so let's not be too harsh on him."

Americat could have cried. He would have, if he hadn't been so damn itchy! The older cats rounded on him.

"Come, Americat." Germanycat bid "It's time for your bath."

* * *

Japancat sighed happily as his human finished brushing him.

"There, all done." he bid "Looking handsome, Tama."

Japancat jumped off his lap and laid down on the porch beside him as he called Pochi over for his brushing, gasping unhappily as a big black flea jumped onto his hand.

"Pochi, you're covered in fleas!" he declared "You need a bath! Stay here."

As he ran off to fetch the tin bath, Pochi looked longingly at Japancat.

"We'll got for a walk afterwards." he promised "It would be bad in the fleas got around again." he sighed "Forgive me, Americat..."

Pochi nodded knowingly, whining slightly as their human started to fill up the tin bath with the garden hose.

* * *

Hoped that fits the bill, SoreResi!


	4. Uncle Russia

This one's cheating a little, since I already posted this previously, but it looked a little lonely all on its own, so now it had some friends!

* * *

**Uncle Russia.**

The concrete hallways were as cold and uninviting as always. His formal shoes clacked against the harsh floor, the echoing hollow and stark. He didn't hang around, but proceeded briskly down the grey stairs and along the absurdly lit corridors, all concrete and bathed in the stench of chemical disinfectant. The air was just damp enough to be disgusting, and through the cracks in the concrete slabs mould and all manner of other interesting fungi had started to sprout.

Every few feet stood a guard, full military uniform hidden under the yellow radiation suit, rifle over their shoulder. Russia couldn't help but wonder how the soldier beneath all that garb had fucked up to be posted here, when even the slightest mistake meant certain death. The soldiers grew less in number the closer he got to the vault, while the amount of moss and fungus grew greater.

At last he reached the heavy vault door, bolted shut still - many wanted to weld it closed and leave what was inside to rot, but he just couldn't bring himself to let that happen. With a bark and a nod, he shooed the guards away, but only out of ear-shot. With a deep sigh, he loosened his tie and undid his jacket and the top button of his shirt before sitting on the ground, back to the vault.

"Petal?" he called "Hello, petal, it's your uncle."

There was a heavy thud from within the vault. From around the corner, Russia heard the guards retreat further.

"Hello, uncle." came the voice from within "You came to see me finally!"

Russia smiled, even though the little girl couldn't see him.

"I'm sorry." he said "Things have been very busy since the world economy went bad - there have been so many meetings, I haven't had time to do anything I enjoy."

"I'm sorry, uncle." the girl sympathised "Where did you go this time?"

"This time it was Britain. It rains a lot there and everything is quite small, but it's very green and pleasant. It's nice to visit."

"Will you take me there?" she asked.

"When you're better," Russia promised "I'll take you everywhere, petal. In the meantime, I brought you this."

He unwrapped the paper parcel he had been carrying, revealing the china doll - it was such a beautiful creation, with its golden ringlets and perfectly painted face, he had to buy it the moment he saw it. Reaching around, he pulled the drawer out from the bottom of the door - it creaked and groaned more than usual, like it hadn't been oiled in a long time - and gently placed the doll inside, closing it slowly as not to get its lovely hair caught. There were more thuds from inside, and the door shook a little. Russia waited.

"Uncle, I love it!" the little girl enthused, causing Russia to smile with a genuine happiness "It's beautiful, thank you!"

"Not as pretty as you, I know. I'm glad you like it - just don't let your doggy chew it, okay?"

"I won't. Wolfy's a good girl, uncle, she won't chew her."

"That's good. What are you going to call her?"

"I don't know many names." 'petal' admitted "What's Mummy's name?"

"Your mother's name is Ukraine, you know that."

"Yeah, but I forget, because she's 'mummy', you know?"

Russia laughed.

"I understand. It would make her happy to hear that."

There was silence from inside, and he immediately felt guilty.

"Will... will she come see me soon?" the little girl asked.

"I'm sorry." he said, heart heavy "She's still very ill."

"Did I make her ill?"

"What? Petal, of course not, why would you think that? Your mother loves you very much!"

"I know I'm ill." she responded sadly "That's why I'm in here. So I don't make other people too."

"That's wrong." Russia assured immediately "You're in there to protect you from other people. You're very special, petal, but not everybody understands that. They might try to hurt you, or use you to hurt others. This place is for your protection, not theirs." he sighed "You didn't make your mummy ill, I promise."

There was more silence from within the vault, followed by more loud thuds and a heavy scraping along the metal.

"I love you, uncle." the little girl said, her voice sad and lonely.

"I love you too, my dear."

"Can we read a story?"

"Of course. Did you get the storybook I sent you for your birthday?"

"I did!" she enthused, followed by more thuds and scrapes "Here it is!"

"I have my copy too." Russia assured, pulling the battered book out of his jacket pocket "What would you like to read?"

"Can we read Sleeping Beauty?"

"Of course. Do you want to start?"

"You start." the little girl asked "I'll read the next page."

"The next page is a picture, silly."

"I know."

Russia chuckled, opened the book to the correct page and started to read.

* * *

Down here there was no natural light, and time was impossible to tell, so whether he was there for hours or minutes was impossible for anyone to know. He was already tired when he arrived, and by now was exhausted. He put the old book back in his pocket.

"I'll come and see you again soon, petal." he promised "I'm going to Belgium next, so if you're a good girl I'll bring you some sweeties."

"I'll be good." she promised.

"I know you will."

He cricked his back as he stood, wiping the moss and fungi from the backside of his coat.

"Before I go, is there anything you need, petal? Do your clothes fit? Do you have enough blankets? Does Wolfy need more batteries?"

"My clothes fit okay, but I need some socks." she admitted "Mine keep getting dirty somehow. And Wolfy does need batteries."

"I'll ask you Aunt Belarus to buy you clothes - she knows what little girls like better than I do. And I'll ask Mr Japan to send more batteries."

"Thank you, Uncle. I'll see you soon."

"Very soon, petal."

Russia straightened his clothes before proceeding back down the hall. He glared as the guards, who immediately jumped back into position, rifles in hand. A person far too short and round to be a soldier came down the hall, metal tray in their hands. Russia waited for them to get close.

"Her dinner?" he asked.

"Yes, Sir." was the reply from what was evidently an old woman within.

"Isn't her dinner time 7 o'clock?"

"Yes, Sir."

"What time is it now?"

"..."

Russia started to walk past, laying a mighty hand on her shoulder.

"If you feed her late again, I'm going to throw you in there with her."

He kept walking, not stopping until he got to the exit. The scientists scanned him with their Geiger counters, as they always did, and he put the old book of stories back into the lead box for the next time he came. This little radiation wouldn't hurt Russia, but he knew he couldn't be excluded from their tests.

When they finally let him leave, the sun had started to rise. The breeze felt good in his hair, washing away the dankness of that place. Knowingly, he turned to his sister, who stood against the wall, arms around her torso.

"She's getting big." he told her "I can hear it in her voice - it's just the same as yours."

Ukraine looked at the door, but Russia laid his hand on her arm.

"You can't see her, you know that. If you get close to her, she'll become a part of you again. You and all your people will get very ill."

"I know that." she replied immediately "I know, but..."

Her eyes started to tear up, and he covered her mouth to stop herself from sobbing.

"How much longer will she have to be in there? My poor Chernobyl..."

Russia put his arms around his sister, who immediately grabbed him and cried openly into his broad chest. He stroked her hair soothingly, allowing her a moment before leading her away.

* * *

So yeah, not too much of a reveal to those who know their history. I wanted to include something like this is a bigger story (and I still might), but I really have to finish the ones I started first. I really should...


	5. Do Not Touch

A little longer this time, and another submission-

Prompt: I request that matt and al steal a few of iggys potions to drink for a stupid brothery dare/competition possibly resulting in weird 5minute transformations *coughmakeoneaheartlesscough*

Apologies... I don't play Kingdom Hearts...I hope you can enjoy what I came up with anyway!

* * *

**Do Not Touch**.

"I'm gonna do it."

"Don't do it."

"I'm gonna do it."

"Don't do it."

"I'm doing it."

"I'm not helping you."

"Gimme a leg up."

The twins stared at the brightly coloured liquids in the odd shaped bottles up on the high shelf, their curiosity burning in their little chests. Britain didn't lay too many rules upon the children (partly because he was away so often that they were hard to enforce), but golden rule number one was most certainly: "don't touch my potions!" Of course, kids being kids, being told not to touch something immediately made them want to do so.

Britain had gone to the market to buy dinner, leaving the rambunctious boys alone. Canada hugged his teddy and backed away from the imposing bookshelf, but America looked all around for something to climb on.

"This is a bad idea." Canada warned "Britain says those things are dangerous."

"Yeah, but he says that about everything!" America countered "He said the same thing about whiskey, and that was great!"

"It wasn't great the next day." Canada recalled "My head hurt and my backside hurt. Britain was really mad."

"Stop living in the past, Canada." America bid as he hauled over a chair.

"Stop refusing to learn from it!"

Article positioned, America climbed up the chair, using the heavy oak bookcase to steady himself.

"I'm not helping you." Canada repeated.

"So don't help."

"I'll tell Britain!"

"So tell him."

Canada pouted, but didn't move, continuing to watch as his brother desperately reached for the first of the brightly coloured potions. America passed it to him as he snagged it.

"I'm not helping!"

"Then I'll drop it."

"Don't you dare!"

"I'm letting it go."

"Don't! "

Both brothers stuck to their guns, which unfortunately resulted in a glass vial shattering on the floor, its contents soaking Canadas bear.

"My teddy!" he shrieked.

"Why didn't you catch it?!"

"Because I'm not helping you!"

Canada startled as the bear in his hands started to twitch. America nearly fell off the chair as it lifted its arm and scratched its head where the potion had seeped in. Stuck between awe and horror, Canada kept holding it.

"That's tingly." the bear complained in a high pitched voice before looking up at the boy "Who are you?"

"C-C-Canada." he stammered.

"Oh." the bear answered "Who am I?"

"OHMYGODTHATISSOCOOL!" America declared "Next one, next one!"

Canada actually took the bottles from his brother as he pulled them off the shelves to avoid another accident, laying them on table beside the bookcase. Soon enough, all the vials had been taken down, and the boys huddled around them excitedly.

"Which one, which one?" America sung.

There were so many bright colours, blue and pink and green and orange, some that glowed and glittered and even one that gently smoked to itself. The rainbow one immediately caught Americas eye, and he practically salivated as he reached for it.

"Hold on, we don't know what does!" Canada reminded him "What if it explodes?"

"So we'll test it on your bear."

"Don't you dare!"

"I don't wanna die!" the bear agreed, hiding behind Canada before taking a moment to come to a realisation "My legs don't work."

"Test it on yourself!" Canada spat, immediately horrified when he did just that, downing the whole thing in one.

A wide smile fixed on Americas face, both boys holding their breath, hearts pounding in their chests, as they waited. And waited. And nothing happened. Americas smile dropped as they both sighed in disappointment.

"Aww." he whined.

Hang on - his voice! America burst out laughing, Canada snickering as he tried not to do the same - his voice was so squeaky! Like a mouse! Determined to make his brother laugh, America started to sing, grinning when he got the reaction he wanted. The bear looked a little confused, tilting its head to the side as he continued to sing.

"Okay!" he declared, trying to make his voice as high as possible "It's your turn!"

He took a look around the gathered bottles for the perfect sample, picking the one that was smoking slightly.

"Here, drink this!" he bid, holding it out to Canada.

He immediately froze - after the whiskey incident, Canada was wary of putting unkown liquids in his mouth, half because of the headache, half because of the spanking.

"I dunno..."

"Don't be a chicken, bro!"

"Yeah, don't be a chicken." the bear agreed "What's a chicken?"

"Canada, if you don't drink this steaming black gunk right now, I will lose all respect for you and punch you."

He held the potion right under his nose, blue eyes staring resolutely at his lavender ones. Behind them, the bear moved its hands about, trying to figure out its fingers. Canada sighed, bowing to peer pressure, and took the bottle.

"If I die, I'm coming back to haunt you." he warned.

"Sounds fair."

Canada pinched his nose, took a deep breath and threw back the potion. For the second time, nothing seemed to happen.

"Say something!"America ordered.

"You're a pillock."

"That's mean!"

America sat back, sighing in disappointment.

"I guess that one didn't do anything." he supposed.

Canada disagreed, but he couldn't put his finger on why. He had a weird stomach ache and felt like something was off. It wasn't until he sat back that he noticed a certain something missing, immediately pulling his trousers down.

"My thingies gone!" he declared.

"It is!" squeaky America agreed "I guess that makes you a girl now!"

"I guess so."

"Pull your breeches up and let's try anothHIC."

America clamped his hand over his mouth as a loud hiccup escaped. He gave it a moment before releasing his mouth, but hiccuped again, this time releasing a large, rainbow coloured bubble. He suddenly yelped, clasping one hand on his mouth and the other over his backside - an oxes tail burst out his breeches, long donkey ears sprouting from under his blond mop. Canada had just fastened his belt when his hair fell over his eyes - hang on, it wasn't that long... It was growing! It was growing fast! It was turning purple!

"Oh no, I knew it!" Canada squealed.

"HEE-HAW!"

America grabbed another potion and drank it in one, causing his brother to gasp at him incredulously.

"Why did you do that?!" he demanded "If you're poisoned, you don't drink more poison!"

"HEE-HAW!"

America started to panic as his skin turned blue, grabbing his brothers shoulders desperately.

"I told you not to!" Canada shrieked as he was overcome by hair.

Both brothers started freaking out, screaming and yelling at the top of their lungs. At the door of the room, Britain and France stood watching, Britain with his hands on his hips and France covering his mouth.

"And you didn't want to leave the dummies out." Britain gloated "'They won't go in your potions, Britain!' 'They aren't interested in that kind of thing, Britain!'"

"I owe you dinner." France sighed "Now please take that smug look of your face and help them!"

"Alright, alright." he sighed, rolling up his sleeves as he walked towards the boys.

"My legs don't work." the bear piqued up.

"One problem at a time."

* * *

Needless to say, neither boy went near Britains potions again. After getting his legs to work, Britain gave Canada back his now sentient bear, with a stern warning not to bring anything else to life. America, on his part, was a very very good boy for quite some time afterwards.

* * *

Fun fact - witchcraft is still illegal in Canada. Really.


End file.
